


Different Isn't Good Or Bad

by Skullszeyes



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attraction, Banter, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Cigarettes, Developing Friendships, Enemies, Enemies to Friends, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Gunshot Wounds, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, Izaya Being Izaya (Durarara!!), M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Minor Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Nicknames, Not Beta Read, Romance, Stabbing, To Be Continued?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28123977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Izaya is fascinated by Shizuo, and wants to get close to him.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Kudos: 21





	Different Isn't Good Or Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So, I was mostly free writing, and didn't really know where this was going. :/ I wanted to write another Shizaya fic though. :D
> 
> Disclaimer: Not edited.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.

Izaya knows the scent of blood. The sickly sweetness of open wounds, so clean and precise. Izaya had spilled those injuries in the past. He heard the terror in their voices when the skin cuts open, when the blood eases out. He fascinated over this many times. He would take a drag of a cigarette from one of his so-called friends. They liked calling him _friend_ as if it meant something to the both of them. The ones who roamed the streets, who didn’t let fear stop them, the hesitation was an insult.

So why, in all his several years of feeling fascinated over blood, tasting the acrid scent of smoke and someone else’s spit simply for the fun of it, was that he came across someone...more ruthless.

The fascination ached in him, but it was different, made him want to go closer, flick his blade out, place it against pale skin, and rip it all open so he can see what was inside of this person’s form.

He wasn’t lively in the least. More caged in and shrewed. It was hilarious, and Izaya found him getting close, even with the insults thrown at him, and the sharpness of his tongue figuratively against him, was an adrenaline he had never touched when he met with the ones in the underground.

This one stood in the sun with dyed blonde hair, sunglasses hiding brown eyes, a bartender outfit that oddly fit with his entire out of nowhere aesthetic.

“Heiwajima Shizuo.”

“Shizuo?”

“Yeah. Stay the fuck away from him?”

Izaya took a drag, sitting on a crate in a back alley, waiting for their _friend,_ Eiji, to hurry up with the drugs. “Why?”

Ah, the name sounded so familiar. Did he go to Raira and Izaya oddly didn’t notice him. Izaya was too focused on the worship than violence incarnate, but he wished he noticed, but there was always a thing called divine timing.

The guy beside him shuddered in his baggy clothes. “That fucker can throw a mean punch. Trust me. We seen him fight, and it’s fucked up. It’s better not to hang around him or anything.”

“So...what does that mean?”

His friend took the cigarette back, giving him a sneer. “Listen, Izaya, don’t fucking go near him, that’s all.”

Izaya was too fascinated.

He didn’t tell his friend he already met Shizuo in a way. He walked in on him having a fight, he got him fired from his job. He watched and watched, and his heart raced with a strange thud in his chest.

Izaya was starved and raw, and he was really hungry for more. So instead of waiting for Eiji, Izaya waved him goodbye and left. He was no longer interested in back alley exchanges with drug addicts and gangsters. Nor the underground that called his name whenever they needed something looked into. He set his schedule up and had everything put on hold until he figured out why he was so damn interested in this one person.

He wouldn’t really call him a person, per se. A regular person didn’t react like Shizuo did. They were different, more refined in their reactions. Izaya was always able to pinpoint what they were thinking and what they were inevitably going to do.

Shizuo was different.

Different wasn’t even particularly a good or bad thing.

There was also something else Izaya could call this. Maybe an act of desperation, a string of it pulling him from the heart. He knew for a fact his brain was utterly defeated by this monsters capabilities that he was gaining idea after idea after idea in the last hour.

He was violent. He was mean, but he was also kind...and kindness in this world didn’t come overly cheap, but this creature gave it up whenever he could if the other gave it up as well.

So, Izaya decided that if he was going to figure this out, he was going to be kind. Not the type of word that was at the top of his vocabulary, but he wasn’t ignorant of its use.

“What do you think?” Izaya asked, speaking to Shinra after leaving his friends in the alley. That was almost an hour and half later, and now he was at someone else’s house. A person who Izaya trusted simply because their thoughts and actions somewhat aligned when the awkward and twisted revolved around each other.

He thought this was a good excuse to visit Shinra.

Shinra was a messy brunette with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He was slender in his white lab coat that his father liked to throw at him as he grew older. A sure way of getting Shinra to work like his dad, and over time, it seemed to have worked in his favor.

“He went to Raira,” Shinra said, watching Izaya spin in his circles on his desk chair.

“How come I don’t remember him?” Izaya asked, coming to a stop and ignoring how dizzy he was.

“I think...when he got into trouble, you skipped school, then he was suspended when you came back.” Shinra shrugged. “I say it’s odd timing.”

More than odd, it seemed that back then, they were not meant to meet until this moment. The city breathed, but what it knew, or what the people who moved in waves didn’t know, is that Izaya’s fascination was more riveting than he would have thought, and he decided to actually introduce himself to the _Monster of Ikebukuro_.

Introduce. Not stand afar like a shadow, he actually wanted to speak to Shizuo. To get to know him, to see what he says about him, and understand the fascination that was digging its blunt nails into Izaya’s thin ice skin.

He left Shinra’s with that in mind. He touched the cold handle of his switchblade. His heart raced with anticipation. He was getting close. He could hear him talking, his voice smooth and on the edge of rage, maybe he always was on the edge. Standing so close each time. His infamous rage is what drew others close and some far away.

Why wouldn’t they want to fight him? He was like an urban myth, a popular thing, not like a magazine that was easily torn apart with sharp scissors, but something more like...a beer bottle smashed on the dry asphalt at midnight. Something like that.

Nonetheless, Izaya didn’t like the sound of Shizuo when it came off other people’s mouths. Spittle. An unwashed thing. So, Izaya was going to find Shizuo, make things right, make him his.

His.

That sounded a little bit better. Maybe bitter.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, taking Shizuo’s attention off his co-worker, and smiling sheepishly at the tall blonde bartender turned bodyguard. He looked better like this under the shade, away from the sunlight or even the glare of a silver mirror.

He looked better when his attention was on Izaya.

Shizuo narrowed his eyes, then they widened, a look of recognition flashed rage. His entire body tensed, loose fingers curling into fists at his sides.

“You’re...the one who—”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Izaya said. “No need in pointing unnecessary fingers, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo growled, yet he didn’t move from where he was standing. “What the hell do you want?”

“You, of course, I want to know you,” Izaya said, then he took a precautious step forward. “I’m Izaya Orihara.”

Shizuo glanced away, brows twitched. “You went to Raira.”

That was strange. No, only odd situations like this called on for a monster to recall his name like so. Right? It wasn’t like he listened or moved or spoke in the way that Izaya hoped he would.

This was different.

Different wasn’t good or bad.

“Ah, yes, I think we missed each other in the halls,” said Izaya with a soft chuckle.

Shizuo scoffed, then he was slowly releasing tension from his body, and seemed to be going back to his conversation with his co-worker.

Izaya stared at him. Uncertainty making its way inside of him, then right before he could say or do something, a gun went off, and the ringing almost made Izaya wince, but what bothered him the most was that Shizuo was lying on the ground, his...friend was knelt beside him, blood was coming from his shoulder.

Unlucky shot.

Izaya twisted around the second someone grabbed his arm, and he was met with his friend, the one who took so long with the drug addict. His eyes were blown wide, and his smile was crooked, salivating.

_What was going on?_

“What did you do?” Izaya asked, his mind reeling as he was yanked away from Shizuo.

He fished into his pocket as his friend, Eiji, pulled him away into an alley with another of their friend.

He was too quick when he also took out his knife, and he cut the one with the gun in the hand, then shoved him down. Right when Eiji was yelling at him, taking out another gun, Izaya fought against him and manage to shove his blade into his friend’s wrist. Eiji let out a cry that Izaya cut off with his hand that also held his phone. He took the gun from his hand, then pointed it at the one on the ground who was almost scrambling off.

“Don’t move,” he told them steadily.

Eiji stared, wild eyed and confused. “Come on, Izaya, you got to be kidding me, it’s what everyone fucking wanted. It’s what you wanted, right? You wanted to get back at Shizuo…”

_Get back at Shizuo?_

Izaya blinked, then he fired the gun, and the cry from their _friend_ echoed in the alley. Izaya dropped the gun at his feet, and yanked the knife out from Eiji’s hand, placing it to his neck.

“I didn’t say that,” he said, dialing a number. “It’s what you said, I don’t remember what you said...actually. Something about Shizuo, something about him kicking the shit out of your friends.”

“And you got him fired,” Eiji said, wincing from the pain in his hand. He was shaking so badly.

“That was for fun, not for you,” said Izaya, then he placed the phone to his ear and spoke in a more upbeat tone. “Hey, Shinra, I’m bringing over a friend, can you look him over? He got shot.”

Izaya cut into Eiji’s abdomen when he finished talking, when he was humming at Shinra, then he pulled the knife out, and sauntered away from the two.

They weren’t really friends.

Fascinations that became stale over time.

Izaya called another number, then spoke to Shizuo’s friend, and smiled down at Shizuo who was now sitting up, taking the pain and blood in stride.

“Dotachin,” Izaya greeted, then gestured for Shizuo to stand up. “I need you to bring Shizuo and I to Shinra’s. Can you hurry up.” He told him where they were going to be, then gestured for Shizuo to follow.

“Do trust him?” Shizuo’s co-worker asked Shizuo.

“No, but he knows a mutual friend, Shinra...I’ll be alright, I’ll call you when I’m patched up.”

Izaya hummed to himself while Shizuo followed him down another alley far from where he attacked his so-called friends.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was out of fascination?” Izaya asked, looking over his shoulder and smiling at Shizuo. “I like you, and I want to help, what’s so wrong with that?”

“We just met.”

“I think a bit of blood and violence isn’t so bad of an introduction between us.” Izaya smirked.

“They were your friends, right?” Shizuo asked.

“No,” Izaya answered simply. “They were not my friends. They were nuisances that thought they were higher than what they are.”

“And what are they?”

“Rats, for the most parts,” said Izaya. “What else would they be but street rats that most don’t care about. Do you care about street rats?”

“Never gave it much thought.”

Izaya hummed. “And that’s why they don’t particularly matter, not when they step over a line. They could be used for a lot of things, but right now...I didn’t like what they did.”

“Where are they?”

“I told them to leave, but I think I made some enemies.” Izaya shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I have more enemies than friends. I was hoping we could be friends.”

“Than enemies?” Shizuo asked, surprisingly keeping in step with Izaya.

Izaya chuckled. He was having fun speaking to Shizuo. “I would like us to be either one, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I hope shooting me wasn’t some kind of ploy like you did with my last job.”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t really my fault, Eiji got over his head, and the job...well, how do you like the one you’re working with now?”

“That isn’t really the point.” Shizuo sighed, a low sound of irritation that Izaya noted for later.

Dotachin picked them up and drove them to Shinra’s. Erika looked over his wound. Izaya said it was nothing, while Shizuo only grunted and wanted the ride to be over with. By the time they reached Shinra’s, the underground doctor was ready for his patient. He was beaming at Shizuo when he walked in with Izaya.

“It looks like your plan worked,” said Shinra.

Shizuo narrowed a glare at Izaya. “This better not have—”

“It wasn’t, more of a misunderstanding,” Izaya said, then glared at Shinra.

Once Shizuo sat down on a chair and Shinra got to work with his wound. Izaya was watching Shizuo, looking at his dyed blonde hair, his brown eyes after he pocketed the sunglasses. His collar once he took off the buttons, and the smooth unmarred skin underneath. He even noted Shizuo’s arms when he rolled up the sleeve for Shinra.

Izaya hummed.

Shizuo flicked his eyes at him, brow arched. “What?”

“You’re really pretty, do you have a girlfriend?”

Shizuo scoffed. “No. I don’t.”

Shinra’s smile widened as he continued his work, but he seemed he was trying his best to hold back a laugh.

Izaya hummed again. He was really nice to look at. Maybe it was the blood, the sweat, the lack of rage from that one day, and possibly the adrenaline that soothed Izaya’s boredom when Eiji interrupted.

“I do apologize for the injury, I’m sure Eiji won’t do it again,” said Izaya, leaning on the couch’s arm wrist and crossing his arms. 

“I’m not comforted by what you’re saying.” Shizuo shook his head, then peered at Izaya, a look of contemplation and confusion. “There’s something weird about you. Something off.”

Izaya tilted his head, smiling pleasantly. “Oh. Is there? No one really says that about me, well...no one says much to me besides what they dislike most.”

“People normally hate you?”

Shinra chuckled. “Hate is an understatement.” He glanced at Izaya. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been called annoying many times in the past.”

Izaya rolled his eyes, then looked at the blood, then at Shizuo’s slightest wince. “I’m compelling, but not to a lot of people.”

“I don’t think you’re compelling, but I can understand the annoying bit,” said Shizuo, his gaze turning up into a glare.

What was that look? Blame. Did he blame Izaya for all of this happening? Maybe.

Izaya scoffed, moving away from the couch, he leaned down slightly, and without really thinking about it, he placed his hand down on Shizuo’s bicep, on the wound, and he pressed down. The both of them ignored Shinra who let out a yelp at the blood easing out from the stitch he was making.

“Come on, Shizu-chan, we just met and you’re calling _me_ annoying?” Izaya said, glaring into Shizuo’s eyes.

Shizuo growled, matching Izaya’s glare. “Maybe next time, I won’t hesitate in kicking your ass, but I’m sure this is the least of your hospitality since you just want to hear your own voice.”

Izaya let go of Shizuo’s wound and walked by both of them. “Maybe we can be friends, Shizu-chan, I don’t mind the spilled blood and violence between us.”

Shizuo leaned back against the chair, scowling at Izaya. “Sure, this is what I always imagined how I’d make friends.”

Izaya glanced over his shoulder, noting the sarcasm as Shinra went back to work on Shizuo’s arm. “Well, it was nice talking to you, maybe next time we’ll have a much more exciting conversation.” He walked out of Shinra’s apartment, and while he stood in the elevator, he stared down at the blood on his hand, wet and drying on his pale skin.

He was aware of the violence that came from splitting skin open, but to hold it down upon a monster growling in his face, he’d say that was the most fascinating moment of his life. Maybe soon, he’ll be able to experience more of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this fic. I'm not sure when.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciated.


End file.
